


Whatever You Want

by NinjaSpaz



Series: IwaOi Fluff Week [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 21st Birthday, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bar crawl, Birthday Fluff, Copious amounts of alcohol - Freeform, Drunk Dancing, Drunken Confessions, Flirty Iwa, Fluff, Iwa is secretly a romantic, IwaOi Fluff Week, M/M, Oikawa DD, Oikawa is too sober for this, Oikawa suffering, SO MUCH FLUFF, but in the best way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25395565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaSpaz/pseuds/NinjaSpaz
Summary: Oikawa TooruTime of Death: June 11th 2015. 2:41am.Cause of death: soul evacuation.-Oikawa offers to DD for Iwaizumi's 21st birthday bar crawl. The longer the night goes on, the lower his prospects of survival.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, background matsuhana
Series: IwaOi Fluff Week [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837429
Comments: 19
Kudos: 165
Collections: Iwaoi fluff week 2020





	Whatever You Want

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2: Birthday | Moon | “You’re my sun moon and stars”
> 
> *slides into seat across from you and steeples fingers*
> 
> Look. I'm gonna be honest with you. I clowned myself when I planned this fic. I only looked at the prompts, not the date, and the idea of a drunken Iwaizumi tormenting a sober Oikawa on his 21st would not leave my brain.
> 
> I also didn't realize he's the oldest of the third years when I decided on this plot, so we're just gonna pretend they were all born in the same year and that Matsuhana are also already 21.
> 
> Speaking of pretending things, we're also gonna pretend the legal drinking age in Japan is 21 and that the experience parallels that of a certain author who turned 21 in a rural college town and that said author definitely did not project much of her own experience onto these boys.
> 
> Okay? Okay. Let's go have some fun, shall we?

“ _Kampai!_ ” the chorus of college boys rings out in the dingy bar. Oikawa forces a grin as he watches Iwa, Mattsun, and Makki down a round of shots. The Seijoh alumni had called dibs on sharing Iwaizumi’s first legal drink since they had come “all the way out” (from their dorms on the campus of their cross-town rival school) for the celebration. There were no complaints as a second round rapidly appears when their college teammates join in. Oikawa sips his juice and tries to act like it doesn’t bother him that he is the only one in present company who isn’t technically of legal drinking age.

The sugary beverage reminds him that this night is supposed to be sweet. It’s Iwa-chan’s birthday, after all. He won’t sour it with his jealousy, not when he himself had suggested the bar crawl and offered to DD. Would it have been easier to throw the party at their apartment where he could join in the festivities? Probably, but he didn’t think they could cram such a massive crowd into their place. Besides which, there would certainly be more debauchery over the weekend that he _would_ be able to partake in. He just wishes he could be sharing that first drink with Iwa-chan, too.

“Your turn will come,” Nishimura says, clapping a hand over Oikawa’s shoulder and offering a sympathetic grin. “One more month, right?”

Oikawa swallows a sigh at the middle blocker’s unvoiced reminder that he is the youngest of the starters. Instead he puts on his most charming smile, all faux cheer and subtle teasing. Thankfully Iwa-chan isn’t looking his way or he would have called him out on it without hesitation. “Who’s counting?” he laughs. He isn’t, not really. Not tonight anyway. Maybe starting in the morning, to encourage his friends to throw him just as excellent a bash as he deserved.

He glances back at Iwaizumi to gauge how he is doing. Two shots weren’t going to have hit him so soon, but the plan wasn’t to spend the entire night in the hole-in-the-wall bar at the end of the strip. It was more or less a tradition for students at their university to start in the dingy dive and work their way up the street. The later the hour, the sketchier the joint became and he had no desire to have first-hand experience with the type of patrons that typically spent their evenings here.

Matsukawa had Iwa in a headlock and Hanamaki was poking him in the ribs, making him shriek with laughter. A warmth forms in the pit of Oikawa’s stomach and begins to spread at the sight. They didn’t live that far, but he’d still really missed those idiots.

“Now, now, let’s not abuse the birthday boy,” he says.

Mattsun blinks at him while Makki pauses in his finger stabbing. “We’re not abusing him,” their dark-haired friend intones.

“It’s his twenty-first birthday, Oikawa,” Makki sighs as if explaining to a child. “He needs his 21 birthday tickles.” He punctuates his statement with another poke to Iwa-chan’s ribs.

Iwa takes the momentary distraction to wriggle out of Mattsun’s grasp and fall in line with his teammates. “You guys are assholes.” He sticks his tongue out at them to eliminate any heat from the sentiment.

“The night is yet young Iwaizumi,” Mattsun grins. Makki waggles his fingers in a promise.

Oikawa stifles a chuckle. “It is young,” he agrees, “but people are starting to fill up this place. Shall we head up the block?”

The tables are starting to fill up, and a band is tuning up on the small raised platform in the corner that serves as a stage. From their graphic tees and studded accessories Oikawa has a feeling they are not a pop group nor were they probably a classic rock cover band that Iwa would enjoy. The tuning is not promising; it reminds him vaguely of the heavier bands that his sister liked to blast at odd hours during her high school years.

They make their way to the next bar on the strip, a respectable restaurant during prime dinner hours and a classier establishment during prime drinking hours. The bouncer scrutinizes Oikawa’s fake ID, but relents with a well-served compliment and a perfectly timed grin, allowing him to remain with the rest of the revelers despite his vow of sobriety.

The party pushes several tables together in a corner while some of the members head to the bar to collect drinks for the table. Kato and Yamazaki return a short time later with two pitchers and enough plastic cups for the tables, a waiter trailing in their wake with a tray of shots. Oikawa suppresses a whine when he smells the sweet liquor of the Kamikazes pass around the table, his favorite. Iwaizumi eyes the shots skeptically; he was beginning to feel the effects from the two he’d had at Alley Cat, if his rosy cheeks were any indication, and the sweet shots could be very sneaky.

“To Iwaizumi!” someone shouts with a raised glass. An echo and a smattering of “happy birthday’s!” come from around the table.

“Happy birthday you old fart!” Mattsun cries as he downs his shot.

The next hour is spent draining the pitchers and fending off challenges of more shots. Oikawa makes sure to slip Iwaizumi a plain soda between his third beer and his fifth shot, gets pitchers of water for the table when one of the pitchers of beer is empty, and teases Mattsun about his choice in shit beer and Makki about his taste in men who drink shit beer.

“I’d make a comment about your taste, captain,” Makki drawls, eyes roving over the table in the direction of the reason for the party, “but dammit I’m not blind.”

Matsukawa pats his shoulder consolingly. “None of us are.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Oikawa mutters under his breath, trying and failing not to look in Iwaizumi’s direction. Some of their teammates are laughing boisterously as he recounts an embarrassing tale about a mishap at practice. His smile is confident, assured, and when his eyes flick towards his former high school friends (and when they land on Oikawa), he flashes the brightest smile yet.

It isn’t like Oikawa enjoys keeping secrets from his best friend. He truly had had every intention of confessing to him after graduation. That plan went out the window with Iwaizumi’s acceptance to the same university as Oikawa. It really shouldn’t have surprised him. He hadn’t actually thought about what it would mean to not have Iwaizumi at his side, and, if he was being honest with himself, which he rarely ever was, he had expected Iwa to follow him. He was ecstatic that they would get to keep playing together. But when the acceptance letter came and Iwa-chan was already looking up apartments for them to rent together and reality set in, he knew there was no way he could confess. It would make things weird. They would be living together for the next four years. Besides, he’d already waited three, what was four more?

“I think he sees something he likes, too,” Mattsun muses.

Makki snorts. “Well, _his_ taste is terrible then.”

The taunting brings Oikawa back to earth, and he squawks indignantly. “Rude! Just because your palettes are so unrefined doesn’t mean everyone’s is. Plenty of people find me positively delectable.”

The dangerous duo share a look and Oikawa swats at both of their shoulders.

They steer the conversation away from Oikawa’s pining onto various other sundries, like upcoming matches and class shenanigans and news from their Seijoh kouhai. It’s warm, and pleasant, and Oikawa almost forgets he’s the only sober person among the group. That illusion is interrupted as a pair of drunk teammates flank them, breaths reeking of booze and bodies heavy with it.

“Kawa-kun, you need to drink with us next time!” Kato leans heavily into his side.

“Yeah, you’re no fun when you’re all…motherly,” Nishimura giggles.

Oikawa puts on his façade again. Mura-kun must have been pretty far gone to have already forgotten their conversation at Alley Cat. “Someone has to keep you delinquents in line,” he taunts. “At least for one more month, but then all bets are off.”

Kato howls with laughter and claps Oikawa on the back. “Iwaizumi is usually better at that,” he says, “but he’s off the hook tonight since it’s his special day, after all.” They exchange a few more pleasantries before bidding the group goodnight. A couple more friends and teammates stop by to chat before wandering off to other groups or heading home as well.

In another hour there are only a handful of the initial party left. Iwaizumi has migrated to the seat directly next to Oikawa, though Makki points out he seems to confuse Oikawa for his seat more often than not as he keeps shifting into the setter’s space to talk to them. Oikawa isn’t sure if he loves Makki or hates him for it. On the one hand, he kind of enjoys having Iwaizumi half in his lap, laughing and talking like they’re in the high school clubroom after a particularly productive practice. On the other hand, it is increasingly hard to keep his cool with Iwaizumi touching him mindlessly and sitting so close Oikawa can almost taste his aftershave. Thighs brushing as he leans over the table to get a better angle on Mattsun. A hand on Oikawa’s chest to steady himself when he falls back into his lap with a laugh. An arm around Oikawa’s neck as they listen to a story from their libero. Every accidental brush of hands sends a jolt of lightning through him and when Makki teases them, Iwaizumi doesn’t move to resume his seat.

“So, what do you want to do now?” Mattsun asks when it’s just the four of them and two of their classmates left.

Iwa has finally returned to his seat, giving Oikawa’s heart a momentary respite. “It’s still kinda early,” he says, checking the time on the watch his mother had gifted him upon graduation. “I don’t really wanna stay here though.”

“We could go up the strip to the club!” Mika-chan offers. Yuri-chan, her excitable girlfriend, bounces in her seat.

Mattsun and Makki shrug. “We’re down.”

“Is that okay with you?” the ace asks.

Oikawa is stunned by the question. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Iwaizumi shrugs. “Well you _are_ DDing. Wouldn’t want to impose and make you miss any of your beauty sleep.”

Their friends snicker behind hands and into shoulders. Oikawa doesn’t rise to the jibe. He smiles. “Whatever you want. It’s your birthday, Iwa-chan.”

Iwa stands. “Then let’s go clubbing.”

The best part about Club41 is the dance floor in the lower level. If he can’t imbibe, at least Oikawa can still let loose and dance. Yuri and Mika drag him out onto the floor with little resistance as soon as they hit the bottom step. He’d met the hyper blonde and her serious-faced girlfriend here the first weekend of the semester and they’d hit it off, exchanging numbers at the end of the night to party again. Every time since, they’d tried to coax Iwaizumi to joining them, and every time he’d always declined, insisting he wasn’t much of a dancer and enjoyed watching them have fun. Every time, he would eventually be pulled in by Yuri or Oikawa, finally loosening up and dancing with them.

Maybe it’s because he has way more alcohol in him than he normally does at this point of the night. Maybe it’s because Matsukawa and Hanamaki are there this time, too, following after Oikawa and the girls to cut up the floor. Maybe it’s because it’s his birthday and he doesn’t want to deny himself any fun. Maybe it’s all of these things or maybe it’s none of them, but when Oikawa spins around to call out to him in their typical ritual he almost falls flat on his ass as his vision fills with Iwaizumi already rolling his hips and rocking his head to the beat inches away from him.

Makki throws a knowing smirk at him from over Iwaizumi’s shoulder and Oikawa finds his breath again as Yuri plants herself between him and Iwa, laughing giddily that they didn’t even have to pry him away from a table to join them. Mattsun’s arm appears over Iwa’s shoulder as he leans toward her, leering slightly. “As if we would let the birthday boy spend his night anywhere but with his dearest friends.”

“That’s us, by the way,” Makki adds helpfully, leaning on Iwaizumi’s other shoulder.

“And we want to dance.”

Mika seemed to take that as a challenge. “So we do have something in common then.”

“No fighting on my birthday,” Iwa scolds them, slinking out from beneath the taller boys and sidling up to Oikawa. “There’s plenty of me to go around,” he adds with a sly grin.

Oikawa’s stomach flutters as Iwaizumi grabs his hand and suddenly spins him. Yuri catches his other hand and soon the three of them are swaying and hopping to the beat, arms interlocking and legs weaving around one another. Mika and Mattsun insert themselves seamlessly and the whole group exchanges partners as the songs blend from one to the next. Makki makes sure to get a few photos and videos before joining the writhing mass of bodies.

Yuri and Makki laugh as they pull Iwa between them, grinding and spinning until Mika and Mattsun claim him. Oikawa floats around the dancers who aren’t occupying Iwaizumi, taking half a song to dance with Mattsun, another to dance with the girls. Sometimes he finds himself between two others, Yuri and Makki more often than anything, and once with Mattsun and Makki, but he’s hyper aware of the handful of songs he dances with Iwa-chan, whether he’s sandwiched between him and the others or dancing with Iwa alone.

He tries not to think about how close Iwa gets when they dance together. He tries not to notice how gentle his hands are on Oikawa’s waist or running up his chest to snake around his neck. He tries to ignore how his body reacts when Iwaizumi grinds against him. He tries not to completely unravel to the beat of whatever generic pop song is blasting through the speakers as his best friend smiles at him like he just received the greatest gift ever.

Every time he gets to the brink of falling, someone comes to his rescue. Makki asks him to help get a round of drinks. Yuri pulls Iwaizumi to dance with her and Mattsun. Mika spins between them and twists to the music with them. Mattsun and Makki claim Oikawa for themselves. Every time, he thinks he notes a glimmer of disappointment in Iwaizumi’s eyes, but then Iwa’s wrapped up dancing with someone else so fast Oikawa can’t be sure he saw it in the first place.

The music slows down as last call is announced. The group is thoroughly exhausted from hours of dancing, but everyone has the same light smile Oikawa feels himself wearing. The girls bid them goodnight with kisses all around. Yuri demands Matsukawa and Hanamaki come out with them again while Mika declines their offer of a ride in Oikawa’s car.

The drive back to Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s school is only ten minutes, but it’s ten minutes of making sure neither Mattsun nor Iwa are going to be sick or pass out. Makki isn’t deterred from his usual inappropriate jokes, and is, in fact, slightly emboldened by the idea that his friends are too inebriated to remember them anyway.

“Take good care of our ace,” he teases as he helps Mattsun out of the sedan once they’re in front of their dorms.

“We believe in you, captain,” Mattsun mumbles out with a shaky salute.

Oikawa flips them off as he takes off back to town and his own apartment. Iwa dozes most of the way, his head lolled back against the headrest, and Oikawa takes care to avoid all the usual potholes.

The parking lot for their complex is at the bottom of a short hill. Oikawa manages to wrestle Iwaizumi out of the car and get him partially onto his feet. The shorter boy sways until Oikawa catches him with his shoulder, taking Iwa’s arm and throwing it around himself as he half-carries, half-drags him up the path towards their apartment building. It’s probably poetic, in a way, given how often Oikawa has draped himself over Iwaizumi throughout their lives, that their roles are reversed for this night.

As if they really do have some weird sort of telepathic connection, Iwaizumi giggles. “Now you know what it’s like dealing with you.”

Oikawa hitches Iwaizumi’s arm up higher. “Please, I’m not nearly as heavy as you,” he grumbles. Seriously, what had they been feeding the boy? (He refuses to acknowledge the thick tendons tugging at his neck. Nope. He is not going to dwell on Iwaizumi’s deliciously beefy arms.)

“S’all muscle, babe,” Iwa giggles again. Oikawa prays his best friend is too drunk to register the heat that suddenly flares up the back of his neck.

They had almost made it to the top of the hill when Iwaizumi grunts something akin to discomfort. For a moment, Oikawa worries he‘s about to be sick on the sidewalk and steps back to give him space. Iwa takes a deep breath and staggers off the path into the grass. He sits down and smiles cheekily up at Oikawa, patting the space next to him in invitation. “’Mere.”

The gesture is more than enough to make Oikawa move, but the slurred syllable does funny things to his heart. He sighs dramatically to cover the momentary hesitation. “Iwa-chan, you know it’s just going to be even harder to get up in a few minutes.”

“You’ll help me get up, right?” There was a hint of suggestion in his cocksure grin. Did he even realize what he had said? They had definitely spent too much time with Makki tonight.

Oikawa swallows thickly before he plops on the ground next to Iwaizumi, close enough to feel the heat from his best friend’s body, but not quite touching. Iwa eyes the gap with a measure of amusement. Oikawa pulls his knees to his chest and hugs them tight, avoiding Iwa’s lingering stare. He senses Iwaizumi shift, leaning back with his hands supporting him from behind as he stares up at the sky. Oikawa lets his gaze turn upward, too.

There are more stars here than in the city, though not quite as many as home, and what stars there are have been washed out by the moon. Still, the soft, silvery light fills Oikawa with a sense of peace just as it always has. The night hadn’t been all that bad. It had even been worth it, to see Iwaizumi smiling like that all night long. Despite his annoyance at having been sober for the whole affair, he idly wonders how much he would have missed if he’d been just as plastered as their friends.

A heavy warmth spreads down his arm from his shoulder, and he tenses before he realizes it’s just Iwaizumi leaning against him once again. “We used to do this all the time,” he muses.

Oikawa hazards a look at him. He’s still staring at the sky. “What?” his voice comes out a whisper over the cacophonous beating of his heart.

Iwa smiles. It’s not the teasing one he was wearing a moment ago, or the drunken, lazy one he’d had most of the night. It’s genuine, soft, like the moonlight blanketing them. “You always wanted to spend the night under the stars,” he says. “Every summer break, you’d drag me out to the fields behind the school, at least three times a week, just to look for UFOs.”

“I still swear that one time it wasn’t a plane,” Oikawa huffs. Iwa laughs and Oikawa’s heart scrabbles against his ribcage for escape. He forces himself to look away again. “You make it sound like it was such a burden.”

“Nah.” The answer is immediate and Oikawa doesn’t know how much more Sincere Iwa he can take. “It made you happy. Nothing that makes you happy could ever really bother me.”

How can he just _say_ things like that? Doesn’t he have the slightest idea what effect his words have on his best friend, who has definitely not been pining for him since high school? “Iwa-chan should do things that make him happy, though.” He wants to blast off into space as soon as the words leave his mouth.

The warm pressure on his shoulder increases slightly as Iwaizumi nudges him. “You make me happy.” Oikawa is going to combust. He is going to burst into flames and leave behind a charred mess on the ground. “You always have.”

He buries his face in his hands and whines. “Iwa-chan, oh my god.” He doesn’t think he can take much more of this.

A low rumble emanates from the broad chest next to him. “Don’t act like you didn’t already know that,” Iwa chuckles.

“Shut up,” Oikawa groans. “You’re drunk.”

Iwa tries to huff, but it comes out a blown raspberry. “Just because I’m drunk doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.”

“You don’t even know what you’re saying,” he tries to reason. There’s no way he can be conscious of how much like a confession it sounds.

“Sure I do.” He grasps at Oikawa’s hand, albeit a touch clumsily given his current level of inebriation. Oikawa flushes further as Iwa slips his fingers between his own. “I’m tired of pretending like, like there’s nothing between us. I’m tired of dancing around it. I just want to dance _with_ you. And I can’t believe you haven’t done anything about it before now either. Honestly, I have to do everything for you.” He shakes his head slowly with an exasperated sigh. He grimaces as the motion undoubtedly makes his head spin.

Oikawa stopped breathing at the mention of the unspoken thing between them. He doesn’t know if he remembers how to breathe. Iwa-chan is _definitely_ confessing to him and he is _absolutely_ hammered and if by some _miracle_ he remembers this conversation in the morning, he is going to be _thoroughly_ mortified. What Oikawa wouldn’t give for a shot of liquid courage for himself right about now. As it is, Iwaizumi is staring at him, waiting for him to say something.

He sits up straighter and turns his gaze back to the sky. The stars glitter gentle encouragement. “You know, Iwa-chan,” he says softly, “I’d be lying if I said I never fantasized about you confessing to me. Probably not as often as I’ve rehearsed my own confession in my head,” he hastily amends, “but often enough. I really did think I would beat you to it, but just like everything else in our lives I’m still one step behind you.” He laughs. “Although I’ll admit I never imagined you’d get through it without insulting me at least twice.”

“Would you prefer if I said “hey dumbass, I like you’?” Iwa’s laugh echoes his own.

Oikawa flinches, but recovers it into a shrug. “I just never realized Iwa-chan would be such a romantic.”

The skin at his neck suddenly erupts into flames as Iwaizumi cups his chin in his calloused, spiker’s hand, forcing Oikawa to look at him. His eyes are slightly hooded, intensely serious, and the flames spread over Oikawa’s whole body. “Tooru,” he says, and Oikawa’s heart stops beating, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be as long as you let me stay by your side.”

_Oikawa Tooru_   
_Time of Death: June 11 th 2015\. 2:41am._   
_Cause of death: soul evacuation._

He’s not sure how much time passes before he returns to his senses, but the first thing he hears is Iwaizumi’s gentle laughter. The heat in his cheeks is entirely from embarrassment now. “Mean, Iwa-chan! Were you just teasing me?”

“Maybe a little,” Iwa chuckles. Before Oikawa can retort though, he becomes aware that their hands are still very much interwoven. Iwaizumi brings their linked hands to his mouth and breathes a kiss over the backs of Oikawa’s knuckles, nearly sending him spiraling once more. “But I still meant every word.”

A whine sneaks out of Oikawa’s throat. “You’re going to be the death of me, Hajime.”

He nods. “Til death do us part.”

“At least take me to dinner first,” Oikawa huffs, forcing himself back to some semblance of normalcy before he completely loses himself again.

“Whatever you want.” He squeezes Oikawa’s hand before a jaw-cracking yawn overtakes him, wiping away the contented grin and replacing it with something somehow softer. “Let’s talk about it in the morning, though. I’m beat.”

“Are you sure you’re even gonna remember this in the morning?” Oikawa asks as he helps Iwaizumi back to his feet. He wraps his arm around Iwa’s waist to steady him as they make their way up to their building.

Iwaizumi rests his head against Oikawa’s shoulder. “Like you would ever let me live this down.”

Oikawa is still half convinced this whole episode has been a dream and almost wishes for it so they won’t have to talk about it, but he hums agreement. “Shame I don’t have any video evidence to prove it to you when you wake up grumpy and annoyed at me like usual.”

“Hmm. Yeah. Shame.”

They make it into their apartment without much further commentary. Iwa grumbles about the stairs when he remembers the elevator is broken again, but he only stumbles twice on their way up to the third floor. He leans heavily against Oikawa as the taller man fishes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks their door. He grumbles again about brushing his teeth (“too tired”) but agrees to at least rinse with mouthwash. Oikawa also makes him drink a glass of water after helping him change out of his clothes, pointedly not looking at the taut skin over firm abs as he pulls on a clean tank top to sleep in and definitely not ogling his thick thighs, shamelessly uncovered as shorts are forgone for the night.

“You all set?” he practically coughs out from the door as Iwa leans back against his headboard. “Need me to get you anything else?”

Iwaizumi is quiet for so long, Oikawa thinks he’s already fallen asleep. But then he meets a single cracked eye. “Yeah. You.”

Oikawa swallows. How many times was Iwaizumi planning on killing him tonight? “Me?”

A nod. “Sleep with me. Like we used to.”

There’s nothing suggestive in his voice, not like earlier when they were under the night sky, and Oikawa finds himself giving in instantly. “Only because it’s your birthday,” he allows. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He still has to brush his own teeth and wash his face. He figures Iwaizumi will be asleep by the time he gets back anyway.

“You better.”

He doesn’t rush, but he also isn’t as leisurely about it as usual. He tells himself it’s just because it’s late and he’s exhausted and he wants to sleep for ten years (and technically all of that is true). The honest part of him, the part that he has shoved down again and again over the years because he’s afraid of the things it knows, the truths it holds, he lets it whisper to him. He wants to sleep next to Iwaizumi. He loves the security he always feels with those arms around him. And he’s excited to lay next to someone who returns his feelings as strongly as he feels them.

He doesn’t doubt Iwaizumi’s confession. “Drunken words are sober thoughts” and all that. He is a little ashamed that he had ever thought Iwaizumi might reject him. That their relationship could never survive such a tumultuous revelation. And he proclaims himself an expert in all things Iwaizumi Hajime? A real Iwa Expert would have known his feelings for his best friend were returned. (He’s almost 100% certain all their friends already knew.)

He glances at his reflection in the mirror as he rinses the cleanser from his face. For someone who hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol all night, he sure has a giddy, drunken smile plastered on his lips. No matter what Iwa remembered in the morning, Oikawa isn’t going to let this euphoria die.

Iwaizumi is snoring when Oikawa returns to his room. He hesitates in the doorway, watching the steady rise and fall of his best friend’s chest, the soft parting of his lips as he breathes. He almost goes back to his own room, but the way Iwaizumi is sprawled in the bed, with most of his body towards one side, one arm outstretched invitingly in the open space that would perfectly accommodate another body, he wills himself forward.

He turns the bedside lamp off and is about to slip under the covers with Iwa-chan when he notices the notification light blinking on his phone. He was sure he’d had no messages before he’d gone to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Curious, he checks the alert, squinting in the sudden brightness of the phone’s LED display. It’s a text from Iwaizumi from ten minutes ago.

He frowns at the sleeping boy and unlocks his phone. The text is a video message and it sends Oikawa’s soul fleeing his body for the second time that night.

“Look, you always take forever with your facial shit and I’m probably not gonna make it that long. Don’t worry about me not remembering in the morning. I will. But here’s your video evidence all the same.” His face fills the screen and he grins that soft, heart-melting smile he’d had when he confessed outside. “Tooru, you are my sun, moon, and stars. I love you. Thanks for the best birthday ever.”

Oikawa’s entire body feels far too warm as he slips into the open space on the bed. He lays on his side, bravely facing Iwaizumi in spite of the fire burning under every inch of his skin. In the pale light from the window, he can just make out a small smirk on Iwaizumi’s lips. The bastard wasn’t fully asleep, after all. Oikawa lets out a small, breathy laugh, nestling into the crook of Iwa’s neck like he had when they were kids.

“Happy birthday, Hajime.”

It had been Iwaizumi’s birthday, but as Oikawa drifts off to sleep with Iwaizumi’s arm curling around him in a silent promise, he feels like he is the one who had received the greatest gift of all.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh these boys! These silly, lovely boys! I'm so glad they are thriving and doing what they love. 402 was a perfect ending and I hope this silly little AU brings you some comfort from the post-finale malaise. If I have time, I'll do a proper thread for our beloved captain's birthday later today.
> 
> For the curious, Mika and Yuri are OCs from a series I've been writing on and off for years. I wanted some more characters to party with our third years and it's been a long time since I've written them that I thought it'd be fun to throw them into a different universe. (They're not girlfriends in that series, though they embody the trope of "if people don't question if you and your bff are gay, are you really bffs?" so I went ham with them here.)
> 
> If you enjoyed this goofy thing, please drop a kudos, leave a comment (and forever have my love), or come yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/anininjaspaz)!
> 
> See you tomorrow for Day 3! It's...different. But fun! Until then!


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